StarCraft® II

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A short story by

Gavin Jurgens-Fyhrie

I rise back towards the divided horizon. My death does not come. I wish it did.

I do not want to remember. I do not want to be One anymore.

I do not want to be I anymore.

I do not want to mourn.

I cross the horizon line. I return to the embrace. I...

Pain

I...

I?

we.

In the calm embrace of the We, hang we. Return, will the Kerrigan. This, know we.

Nothing else, is there.

we do not want to remember.

Overlords, are we.

* * *

Caston had dug and filled the eight graves by the time the sun rose. He left his empty armor beside them and walked off into the ghost of the Confederate capital. A rescue team would come eventually, and he didn't want to be rescued. Rescue meant resocialization. Resocialization meant forgetting, and he didn't want to forget.

Movement caught his eye, and he looked up.

Far above the ruined world, the overlord rose into the dawn, glowing a rich sky blue.

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